


The devil is in the details

by ghostwriting



Category: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)
Genre: First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:34:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29778306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostwriting/pseuds/ghostwriting
Summary: Maybe he doesn’t mean what he says.Maybe he just can’t leave Langa alone.Maybe he’s worried, maybe he’s scared, maybe he’s a lot of things he doesn’t really want to think about.Reki reads Langa in the details of his every move. Or, Reki does what he does best.(A little something to help with Episode 8 and 9.)
Relationships: Hasegawa Langa/Kyan Reki
Comments: 12
Kudos: 243





	The devil is in the details

**Author's Note:**

> A post-Episode 8 fic because I write to cope with the week-long wait for the next episode :')

Reki never realised just how much his keen sense of observation could be both a boon and a bane.

When customising skateboards, Reki knows the value of his knack for noticing the little details that reveal important, defining, circumstance-altering aspects of a person and their skating style. He doesn’t think it’s as amazing as Langa tells him it is, but Reki recognises its use and has always been proud of what he’d been able to achieve. The Reki-L2S had been his favourite among them all.

He even felt a little cool.

But now, all his observation skills is telling him how decidedly _un_ cool he is because it’s impossible to ignore the look on Langa’s face in the reflection of the classroom window. He sees the little spark of hope as he greets him good morning, and then watches that same spark die in less than 30 seconds.

Even if they aren’t a good match anymore, Reki knows it’s still no reason to be acting like an asshole. But that doesn’t mean he knows the right things to say or how to ease the terrible ache in his chest either. He also doesn’t know how to shake that far-off, hollow look from Langa’s face, or how to make him look less like a kicked puppy because it only makes Reki feel even more like a dick.

“Look, it’s not a big deal that we don’t skate together anymore,” he wants to tell Langa, except that it is, and he’s in no position to tell Langa how to feel, just like how Langa doesn’t quite have a say in how he feels either.

And what the hell is _this_? Why did Reki think it was a good idea to be at “S” watching the tournament and _why_ is he hiding from Langa?

Maybe it’s because he’s a fraud.

Maybe he doesn’t mean what he says.

Maybe he just can’t leave Langa alone.

Maybe he’s worried, maybe he’s scared, maybe he’s a lot of things he doesn’t really want to think about.

And somehow, all these maybes boil down to a moment where he finds himself on the back of Langa’s motorcycle after the races that night, and they’re headed down the same road to the steps where Langa had promised he wouldn’t skate Adam again.

He hadn’t been holding on to Langa that tightly – they weren’t going that fast – but the half-assed way his hands had been hanging on to Langa’s shirt was making his shoulders tense uncomfortably, so a little into their journey, Reki leans forward and pulls himself closer, arms secure around Langa’s waist.

He notices how Langa’s body stiffens as his hands tighten around the handlebars, and then, all at once, Langa relaxes, muscles shifting against Reki as he exhales. There’s the slightest, softest hint of a smile touching the corner of his lips, and for once, Langa looks a little less empty.

Reki lets himself rest his chin on Langa’s shoulder, closing his eyes as the wind whips past his face. He avoids Langa because he doesn’t know what to say, unsure of how to word things without having it be all barbed wires that cut and wound like the way he feels on the inside.

But maybe, Reki thinks, words aren’t always needed. Just like when he nailed his first ollie – just like when Langa nailed _his_ first ollie – it’d been less words and more feeling, and Reki felt like they’d understood each other perfectly in that moment.

He opens his eyes, peering at Langa’s side profile – all shimmering blue eyes, soft periwinkle hair, and lovely smile – and Reki knows he’d hate for all this to be reduced to a memory.

Langa stops the motorcycle by the jagged steps, and they sit by the stone wall, a lot like how they had when they’d narrowly escaped getting arrested. Reki opens his hand in his lap, recalling the way that Langa helped him with his bandages, chastising him for going too far. Surely Langa would have understood his feelings then too. _It’s dangerous, Langa. Don’t go too far. Please._

He raises his eyes to see Langa watching him as he’s staring at his palm, looking like he wants to say something but he can’t. Reki supposes that’s what happens after one too many unanswered phone calls, text messages and half-hearted ‘hey’s. But more importantly, it’s hard not to feel a little moved by how Langa doesn’t seem to stop trying.

Reki clenches his hand into a fist and tries to dissipate the awkwardness by giving him a fist bump to the chest. He’d done that too when he’d told him not to be reckless weeks ago.

The punch lands softly right at the spot where Langa’s heart would be – and it’s light, Reki is sure of it – but it seems like it’d knocked all the wind out from his lungs.

“H-Hey,” Reki leans forward to check on him, withdrawing his hand as he does so. “You okay? I’m sure I didn’t hit you that hard – ”

Langa is fast – fast in the way that always takes Reki’s breath away, whether it’s the speed at which he picks up skating or how fast he goes on the “S” track – and when Langa catches his wrist and brings Reki’s hand back to his chest, Reki almost tips forward in surprise.

He blinks, eyes wide as Langa splays his fingers out gently over his chest, his own hand resting on top of Reki’s. Langa’s eyebrows furrow upwards as he holds Reki’s gaze, and he looks almost relieved, like he’s breathing a little easier.

Tracking the steady thrum of Langa’s heartbeat under his hand, Reki can’t help but think about how it feels so loud, loud enough to distract and keep him absolutely still even as Langa shifts closer. Langa is quiet but Reki feels it in his touch, sees it in his eyes and the dark circles under them, in the press of his lips and the lines between his brows.

How terrible that Langa should wear his heart on his sleeve like this, and how awful that every other part of him remains so painfully honest each time he’s unable to get his words across.

Langa with jerky, unpractised movements doing his best to make things better even when he has no reason to – it’s like watching the Langa from a few months ago. He flails and Reki reaches out, steadying him.

_Take the plunge. I’ll catch you if you fall._

So, Langa jumps, closing the distance between them as he surprises Reki like he always does, this time with the soft press of lips against his, and suddenly, Reki is certain he’s the one falling instead.

He breathes in sharply, like he’s just had his board kicked out from under him, but Langa is right there with gentle hands and even gentler lips, pulling him close, guiding him to where the ground is most solid beneath his feet, to a refuge in a rift.

And right now – as he closes his eyes and raises his hands to Langa’s arms to pull him nearer still – Reki understands him perfectly, from the rhythm of each kiss and the surge of his body as he presses close, to the caress of his touch on his cheek and the slow slide of his tongue on his bottom lip, he hears Langa calling his name, filling every void, every bit of emptiness with the sound of him.

“Langa,” Reki breathes without quite meaning to, chasing the whisper of his breath on his lips as Langa draws back. It’s been far too long since he’d said his name out loud like this, and it sounds every bit as desperate and terrified as he feels on the inside.

He opens his eyes to catch a brilliant flash of blue, half-lidded, soft at the edges. Reki exhales as Langa leans right in, kissing him – once, twice, thrice ( _Reki, Reki, Reki_ ) – and Reki is falling all over again, drowning in details like the sound of the waves, the rocky steps beneath them, the familiarity of a touch, and _Langa, Langa, Langa_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Langa and Reki have my whole heart and I’ve rewatched the anime opening far too many times just to see them smile again.
> 
> ([my twitter](https://twitter.com/ghostwritingari))


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